Days of The Lone Centurion
by lauraforthewinoswald
Summary: A story following Rory the Roman as he follows the Pandorica through it's 2,000 year journey.
1. Aemilius

"Be careful!" The centurion warned as the soldiers slowly carried the Pandorica up out of the cave through an intricate system of pulleys. Wheels were placed beneath it and the large box was strapped to a chariot and carried off back to Rome. Rory rode alongside a young soldier who had remained rather silent for most of the journey. It wasn't until they arrived at the site they meant to house the Pandorica in that the man finally spoke.

"Sir, if I may ask, what is this thing?" The young soldier stood in front of it, examining it. "Is it a weapon? I've heard the stories, flying chariots in the sky over Stonehenge. It must be a dangerous weapon indeed. I don't know if I believe the stories but..."

"I was there that day." Rory replied. "It's all true, visitors from the stars."

"Sir, that was decades ago. How were you there? You'd have to be well over 60 years old. I must say, you look good for a man your age, not a day over 20!" The soldier exclaimed.

"Oh, thanks. That's really kind of you." Rory smiled. "How old are you, soldier?"

"I'm 16, sir." He replied.

"Name?" Rory asked.

"Aemilius, sir." The soldier saluted. "At your service."

"I like that name, Aemilius." Rory chuckled. "That old box, I've been guarding that box since before your parents were even born. And you're right, I've not aged a day over 20 since I started watching it. I look human and act human and this body function like a human body should but it isn't actually human. It's just an excellent copy."

"Not human?! Did you come down from the heavens in one of those sky chariots?" Aemilius' eyes widened in wonder. "Or was it some magic within the Pandorica that gave you the gift of immortality? What's inside the Pandorica, sir?"

"The most important thing in the universe." Rory whispered. He looked back at Aemilius with a smile. "Now enough with all the questions, soldier. Back to work."

"Yes, sir." The young man saluted and went on his way. He came by often to speak with Rory after their first meeting. We visited weekly for almost a year. He started bringing an old Latrunculi board along with him to pass the time. It was a military strategy game a bit like chess, Rory was quite good at it. He didn't remember being gifted at chess before he woke up a Roman. But thanks to his programing, his head was all full of new information. It was his software talking, call it a Centurion upgrade package. "Sir, do you ever leave this building?" The soldier asked on one of his visits.

"No, I can't." Rory replied moving his piece in the boardgame forward.

"But why can't you?" Aemilius asked.

"I made a promise to protect her. I won't let her out of my sight until I know she's safe." Rory looked at the box.

"The box is a she?" The young soldier looked at the Pandorica with a puzzled look on his face.

"Not exactly... It's a long story, Aemilius." Rory sighed.

"I've got time." He smiled. "It's just the two of us in this room all alone playing this silly game."

"It's your move next, by the way." Rory looked down at the boardgame between them as they sat on the floor playing. In that moment he was suddenly surprised by a kiss from Aemilius, a strong and passionate kiss.

"Whoa, wait!" Rory was taken aback. "First of all, not the next move I was expecting. Second, you know it's against the rules for soldiers to fraternize with each other that way."

"It was just a kiss." Aemilius chuckled. "Don't you get lonely in here? You've been guarding this box for over 60 years now. How long has it been since you've been properly kissed?

"Over 60 years now.." Rory looked down at the ground shyly. "Aemilius, I'm not... I'm not interested in you that way. You're a good friend and I've really enjoyed your company but... I can't..." Rory stopped for a moment when he looked up and noticed a small bump on Aemilius' neck. "Does that itch at all."

"It's been bothering me a bit." The young man shrugged.

"Have you felt like you've been running a fever lately, a general malaise?" Rory asked, placing his hand over Aemilius' forehead to check his temperature.

"Are you a doctor now?" The soldier replied.

"A nurse." Rory checked his friend's pulse on his neck and noticed another bump appearing. "I don't mean to alarm you but I think you're getting sick."

"I've been getting headaches lately, had a dizzy spell earlier today but I didn't think much of it." The man looked up at Rory. "Should I see a doctor?"

Rory shook his head yes and gave his friend a hug and a kiss, on the cheek this time. "Go on, I'll see you next week, same as usual. Sun's about to set." Rory lied. He knew what was happening, his dear friend would be bedridden with smallpox by next week. Turned out to be just the beginning, the epidemic lasted two years. Thousands in Rome died from the outbreak. Rory felt the price of living too long for the first time in that moment. Everyone around him would grow old and die while he stayed the same. He didn't want to close himself off from ever getting close to anyone again, but maybe isolation was the only way for him to survive. He remained alone inside the walls housing the Pandorica for nearly 300 years, until the Franks showed up.

Rory allowed them to move the Pandorica under the condition that he remain it's guardian. The Lone Centurion warned "The day the Pandorica is opened is the day the world as you know it will cease to exist." Noticing him to be hundreds of years old, due to his old Roman Centurion uniform, they obeyed. They figured he must be a demigod, an ageless messenger from the heavens. If any man disobeyed the Lone Centurion's orders, they would face the wrath of God himself.


	2. Safe In The Monastery

After 700 years undisturbed, the knights reached the site as told in the legends. It was said to be the site of a box containing within it the power to end the world. As they cut through the overgrown foliage surrounding it, they discovered it to be nothing at all like they expected. The men searched the box for an opening.

"I really wouldn't open that if I were you." A man in a Centurion uniform stepped out from the darkness. "The knights templar, right?" He asked, looking at their white robes and red crosses. "So, I've got another 1,000 years give or take, half way there." He thought aloud.

"Who are you!" A knight drew his sword up towards the centurion.

"Name's Rory and I'm in charge of protecting this box. Now who are you?" The Roman replied. "And drop the sword, will you. It'd be a real shame to have to kill you."

"Sir Rowan Fenwick of Newcastle" The man put his sword away. "How can you exist? It's not possible."

"I know! It's wild, isn't it?" Rory chuckled. "So, what's your plan then? Want to take this old thing as some holy relic to send to the pope for a birthday gift or something?"

"Not exactly." The knight replied. "We travel to Burgundy tonight and seek to keep the relic safe in the monastery."

Rory placed his hand on the Pandorica. "Just handle with care, understand?" He walked towards the bewildered men and smiled. "As you might have noticed, I haven't gotten out much in the last 700 years so it should be a fun trip."

"You're coming with us?" The knight asked.

"Of course I'm coming with you." Rory scoffed. "Honestly, Fenwick. Think I'm just going to let you steal the most important box in the universe from under me? Rude.." The Roman rolled his eyes.

They arrived at the monastery as the sun was setting. They walked through the grey medieval archways in the dim purple light of dusk. The monks greeted the men and quickly lead them to the chamber where they'd house the Pandorica. Rory bowed respectfully, "If the Pandorica is to remain in your church, I have to stay with it. I made a promise to guard it until the time came to open it."

"What time, the end of the world?" A monk replied in astonishment. The sight of a man in ancient Roman dress, just like in the legends. It was truly a miracle or God.

"It might be." Rory replied. "It can't be opened until the right time comes."

"You know when this world will end?" Another monk asked.

"If I did, would you honestly want to know the answer?" Rory replied. "Now, I know I'm this strange, ageless, almost human sort of thing... but I still would really love a warm bath, if you've got one."

They had a wooden bath filled with water for him but no soap to speak of. He couldn't wait for soap to become more readily available again. He remembered the bath houses in Rome and wished he had one of those bottles of olive oil infused with sage that they used to sell in the... Rory's thoughts stopped abruptly. Did he really remember that or was that his software talking? Rory remembered the pink artisanal soaps Amelia would always buy from the little shop around the corner, jasmine and apple blossoms. A monk knocked on the door and broke his train of thought.

"Sir, we took the liberty of cleaning your clothing for you." He walked in. "They're still wet those. So all we've got for you is this at the moment." He showed Rory the coarse brown robes like the ones the rest of the monks were wearing. It would have to do for the time being and that outfit brought a lot less attention to him then that old uniform. He figured it best to blend in in the dark ages, wouldn't want to look like the godless, secular heathen he was.

He lived among the monks for years years and even shared in their prayers and chores from time to time. But he prefered to keep out of sight mostly. He was on his way back to the Pandorica when he was stopped by a woman on the verge of tears walking briskly down the corridor, she was dressed like a postulant.

"Excuse me.. miss.." Rory's voice turned her around. "Is something wrong?"

"Pray over me. I feel as if I'm falling into the darkest pit of despair." The woman came forward towards him.

Rory nodded and took her hands in his as they bowed their heads. "O God, may thy servant be enkindled with the fire of thy love and become a shining light for you. Grant that she may be aflame with the spirit of love and discipline, and may ever walk before thee as a child of light; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who with thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, liveth and reigneth now and forever." Rory had spent near a decade in the old monastery, he'd learned his lines rather well. He seemed slightly conflicted since he didn't believe half the things he said. But he figured it wasn't complete sacrilege if he performed with the intention of helping others, his intentions were always pure. If there was any god listening, he figured they would know he did everything out of the goodness of his heart. That had to count for something.

"Are you also a novice?" The woman asked. "You seem a bit young to be a monk. Was it out of place for me to ask?" She blushed a little.

"No, I'm not." Rory chuckled. "See?" he took down his hood. "Full head of hair. Afraid to shave it off. I don't think it grows back. If my hair grew like a normal human's, I would have a beard down to the floor by now."

"Are you not a normal human?" The young nun replied.

"Have they told you yet, about the relic housed here?" Rory asked. All the monks and nuns knew of the immortal guardian of the Pandorica. Perhaps she was still too new to be told the secret.


	3. Dark Thoughts

"You mean the stories about the secret box? I've heard that story." The young nun chuckled. "You aren't suggesting there is such a thing, are you?"

"The stories speak of a guardian, don't they? An ageless guardian who keeps the box safe until the right moment comes to open it?" Rory asked.

"Yes, an ancient Roman Centurion." She replied.

"Well, you're looking at him." Rory smiled. "Not dressed like it now. I don't come out into the open dressed in my uniform or I'd attract a bit too much attention."

"Show me" She crossed her arms defiantly. "I won't believe you until I see proof."

"Aren't you supposed to be a woman of faith?" Rory joked. "I'll show you but you mustn't tell, understand?" He watched as the young woman shook her head in agreement. "I never did ask your name." Rory asked as they walked down into a hidden staircase leading to his chamber.

"Millicent." The nun replied.

"Well, here it is Millicent." Rory opened the door to reveal the large grey box. A Centurion uniform sat beside it. "It's really you?" She gasped as she walked towards it. She moved her hand up to touch it. "What's inside."

"The most important thing in the universe." Rory replied. He sat down at a small wooden chair and table with some food in a large wooden bowl. "Can I ask you something, Millicent?" Rory sniffed the loaf of bread to check if it was still fresh. "What was it that had you falling into such despair?"

"I wish I could explain." Millicent began as she sat in the chair opposite him on the other side of the table. "It's as if my thoughts are overtaken by an overwhelming voice that tells me such terrible things."

"What things does the voice say?" Rory looked a bit worried.

"Dark thoughts that I hate to speak aloud. I fear they come from the devil himself sometimes. It frightens me so." Millicent case her gaze to the ground. "I thought here in the safety of the abbey, the voices would leave me. I pray with all sincerity but they always return to me." She looked at Rory and smiled. "I think your prayer has helped, the melancholy clouding my mind has vanished."

"That's good." Rory smiled back. "You can eat this." He pointed to the bread and grapes in the bowl on the table. "I can taste things like a human but I never actually feel hunger like one. I just keep some food around to eat when I get bored, which is most days. I've been feeling incredibly bored lately. I suppose that's why I was so quick to invite you in, I'm starved for company. Some of the monks speak with me sometimes but they're conversations can be so painfully dull."

"I'll gladly come to visit, although I don't know if my conversation will be less dull." Millicent chuckled and began to take some grapes from the bowl.

"I'd like that very much." Rory watched with a sad sort of smile at his new companion. Her dark thoughts and voices were more than likely a sign of some sort of depression, something the medieval age had no medical remedy for. "You can visit whenever you like." Rory handed her the other half of the loaf of bread he'd been eating. "Just don't let it get in the way of your duties. I'd hate for you to get into any trouble for shirking your chores."

Millicent agreed and happily went on her way. They had weekly visits and she usually always came with a snack of some kind to share. Even though she knew Rory was never hungry, she knew he still enjoyed the taste of food so she came with something every time. One day, Millicent came in with a big smile on her face. She carried a big woven basket covered by a white cloth. "I've got something very special for you today" She set the basket on the little wooden table. She paused when she noticed Rory walking out in his Roman centurion uniform. She hadn't seen him wear it in all the times she'd come to visit, she'd only ever seen him dressed like one of the monks. "It's strange..." She started "The uniform really does suit you but you seem a bit thin for an ancient warrior."

"I've always had a difficult time putting on weight." Rory shrugged and sat down at the table. "I've also always been very self conscious about my looks so thanks for bringing it up." He joked. It was true though, he had always been self conscious of his looks but deflected his insecurity with jokes. He always thought he looked rather ugly, around Amy especially. When they walked into a room side by side, Rory couldn't help but feel the eyes in the room staring at him as they tried to understand how someone as beautiful as Amy could have said yes to such a ridiculous looking goof. Amy had insisted she loved him but he still had his doubts sometimes. Had their roles been reversed, would she have stayed to protect him? He removed the thought from his mind. "So... what's the special surprise inside your basket then." Rory smiled. "Smells really good."

Millicent pulled back the white cloth to reveal 5 little pies and a bushel of bright red apples. "Pork pies with ginger and honey." She smiled.

"I thought you were taking a vow of poverty. Nothing but plain broth and a loaf of bread for you." Rory joked as he took one of the pies. "It's been ages since I tasted this. I remember my mother would make these amazing meat pies. She'd mince beef and pork with thyme and cloves and then she'd..." Rory stopped for a moment. That wasn't a roman memory, that was distinctly Rory. It was too specific to be programed in, he thought. He wanted so much to believe he was human but he knew he wasn't, not yet.


	4. Museum Piece

"Sorry, had a flashback or maybe a flash forward. It's the software talking, or maybe it's me." Rory shook his head. "Sorry, I... I get thoughts sometimes too. Sort of like you but mine come from a life I never lived or will live. It's all hard to explain." He looked up at Millicent's concerned face.

"I thought you were an angel, a heavenly guardian sent by God to protect the world from the destructive force within the Pandorica." Millicent replied. "But it seems to me now that you are something different."

"I was betrothed to a woman before I became this, half human thing..." Rory had never actually told anyone what was in the Pandorica specifically. "I had died but she brought me back to life. Thing is, she's different, always has been. That's why I loved her so much. She had visions of the whole universe pouring into her head at night, her memory of me brought me back to life but in this non-human form. She's in there now... she was dead but the Pandorica will bring her back to life. She's sort of frozen in time in there while the Pandorica slowly revives her."

"You're in love." Millicent smiled. "You've done all this for love. Created the myth of it being a weapon of ultimate destruction to keep everyone away from it. How long have you been waiting?"

"About 1200 years" Rory's eyes began to water. "I miss her so much. I miss her every single day." He whispered as tears began to flow.

Millicent walked up to him and placed her hands on Rory's face. "You may not be an angel but you're the personification of God's perfect love, always watching over us. You've been given a gift and you'll see your love again, I know it." She hugged him and Rory hugged her back as he wept. It'd been hundreds of years since he'd been held by anyone.

Sister Millicent and Rory the Roman were friends for decades. He watched her grow old while he stayed the same. She was a fragile thing in her 80's when it had been decided that the Pandorica ought to be moved back to the Vatican in Rome.

"They're sending you home, my dear angel." The old nun smiled as they said their last goodbyes.

Rory held her tight and kissed her hand. "I can't thank you enough for your friendship and your kindness. If ever there was an angel walking on this Earth, it would be you, Millie." He bowed respectfully before her and walked into the crate taking him and the Pandorica back to Rome. The Rome of the late 13th century was nothing like the Rome he remembered and although the Vatican was a far more interesting place then the small French monastery, he missed the little old church he'd called home for the last hundred years. The Pandorica remained in the safety of the Vatican until the 1920's when a man who very openly opposed the Catholic Church, rose to power in Italy. Mussolini's threats against the church made them fear an invasion of the Vatican City and the Pandorica had to be kept safe in another location.

It was sent to a museum warehouse in London. It felt rather strange to be back in Great Britain after having been gone so long, and so much closer to home. Only 70 years left till the Pandorica was to be opened. It was 1926 when Rory heard a rustling from the other end of the heard some chuckling and indiscernible whispers. Rory rolled his eyes, it sounded like a group of teenagers trying to break in. There were four of them, well dressed kids. They looked like they were coming from a party. They acted like it too, they stumbled around drunk as they tried to open a box of old faberge eggs. Someone heard Rory step forward and jumped up. "Someone's here" the young man whispered. "Over there, in the shadows, I swear."

Rory took a step out of the shadows and at the sight of a man dressed like a Roman warrior walking towards them, they scattered like mice. They all got away save for one young lady who'd fallen as she was running, twisting her ankle as she fell. She had a blue and black beaded and sequined party dress on with a dangerously plunging neckline. "You stay away from me... you..." She was having trouble standing. Rory grabbed her by the arm as she attempted to get away "Let go of me... you... why are you dressed like that?" She looked at his centurion outfit.

"I should ask you the same." Rory chuckled. "Also, since we're doing questions, why should I not call the police on you right now for trespassing?" He took her by the arm all the way to a little office in the warehouse and he locked the door behind him. "Sit." He ordered and she obeyed.

The woman scoffed as she sat. "Do you know who I am?"

"You're a drunk little brat who's about to be arrested for trespassing." Rory began to pick up the phone when she stopped him.

"I'm Josephine Adler." She turned up her nose.

"And that's important to me because...?" Rory rolled his eyes.

"You really don't know who I am, do you?" She scoffed again. "How can you not know who I am?"

Rory hung up the phone and sat at a chair opposite her. "I'm a nearly 2,000 year old walking museum piece that guards a warehouse full of priceless antiques. I really don't keep up with the local news so... enlighten me. Why should I know who you are?"

"I'm not just any drunk little brat." Josephine smiled. "I'm THE drunk little brat, one of the biggest and baddest socialites in the country. Go ahead and call the police, father will bail me out and the story will be a hit with all the newspapers." She stood up but quickly fell back to her chair, wincing in pain. "I think it's broken." She grabbed her ankle.

"Let me look at it." Rory knelt down at her feet and took off her shoe slowly. Delicately, he moved his hands up and down her ankle and lightly squeezed. Then he moved down her foot doing the same. "How did that feel?" He asked.

"Honestly, we've only just met. I don't even know your name." Josephine chuckled flirtatiously.

Rory almost blushed but remained composed. She had legs for miles and dark red lips that curled up into the most mischievous smile. "Just... just tell me if it hurts." He tried to hide his smile. "And the name's Rory, by the way."


	5. You've Seen Him?

"Rory?" Josephine asked. "That's not a very Roman name, is it?"

"It isn't." Rory replied. "And your ankle isn't broken, it's just twisted a little. Some ice and it should be fine." Rory picked up the phone again. "I'm calling a cab to take you home."

"Thank you." Josephine whispered.

"So why are you popular exactly, what are you known for?" Rory asked after getting off the phone with the cab. "Are you an actress or...?"

"I'm just incredibly rich and incredibly attractive. I'm simply known for going to parties and making headlines." She chuckled.

"What do you do when you go to these parties that makes headlines?" Rory asked.

"I go to parties and I kiss people, it's a laugh" Josephine replied

"That reminds me of someone I used to know, or will know..." Rory couldn't help but laugh.

"So what exactly are you then?" Josephine asked. "Are you really a museum piece come to life or are you just a very very strange security guard?" She chuckled.

"Both." Rory smiled.

"I'm going to figure you out." Josephine was still a bit drunk. As she spoke, she started to slowly fall from her chair.

"Whoa there." Rory caught her and helped her to stand. He walked her to the cab outside and waved goodbye.

But something in Josephine kept nagging her to go back and apologize to the strange centurion for having acted so stupid. Or at the very least to learn who that Roman really was. She went back to the museum a few days later to enquire. "Umm hello..." She tapped a curator on the shoulder. "I know this is going to sound a bit queer but... have you got a man working in the warehouse who dresses like a Roman soldier every night?"

"You've seen him?" The curator replied. "You've actually seen him in the flesh?"

"Yeah, I mean, he seemed flesh. He felt like flesh." Josephine shrugged.

"You felt him? Like you touched him, touched him how?" The curator's eyes widened.

"Well, that sounds a bit personal, don't you think?" Josephine laughed.

"I... I only meant that... I assumed he was some sort of ghost." The curator replied.

"Oh, don't worry I don't go around snogging museum ghosts." Josephine chuckled.

"Right..." The curator fixed his glasses. "The last centurion, as he's known, is a myth that surrounds the Pandorica."

"What's that exactly?" Josephine listened as the curator as he told her the story of the Pandorica. How it was thousands of years old and made from a material not seen anywhere else on Earth. No one knew what was inside but he gave her the most popular theory. "Some say there's a weapon inside capable of destroying the whole world as we know it. But if you look here actually..." The curator took her hand and lead her to a section of medieval manuscripts. He took out a pair of gloves and very carefully opened the leather journal inside a glass case. "It's a diary from the middle ages belonging to a nun with no name, or that is, she never wrote her name in it. It was found in an old French monastery where legend says the Pandorica was once housed." The man cleared his throat and fixed his glasses once again.

"It reads;

'I'm certain the Lord himself sent me an angel. He doesn't look like anything heavenly, a simple, humble looking man. But in Isaiah it reads that our Lord Jesus himself was a man of plain and simple features. Strange that he should come dressed as a Roman soldier when it was them who nailed Jesus to the cross. This angel, he has the face of a young man but is in fact one thousand years or age and he has promised his life to guarding the Pandorida. He says his betrothed is trapped inside it, she can only be revived at the proper time to save the world from destruction. Another thousand years to go, he says.

To think we wait for The Lord's son to return, perhaps God will send his daughter for the second coming instead. I dare not say such things aloud for 1st Timothy says a woman is never to exercise authority over man. And yet, Galatians says there is no male or female in the eyes of God, we are all one in Jesus Christ. I asked my angel about these contradictions and he replied with a hearty laugh - Oh please no! Do not drag me into that debate or we'll be talking in circles forever - He makes me laugh so, a relief from the melancholia that seems so intent on following me wherever I go."

"You're telling me I was talking to an angel the other night?" Josephine chuckled at the curator. "But she wrote that he was waiting for his betrothed, angels don't have fiancee's, right?"

"I know it sounds crazy, but what about a door to another world hidden inside, a place where one world collides with another. A box that's bigger on the inside." The curator's eyes were wild and glittering with ideas.

"What, like Alice's magic looking glass or something?" She scoffed. "If we open the Pandorica we'll run into talking rabbits?"

"You saw him yourself. How much stranger is a 2,000 year old man who guards a box when compared to the possibility of a door to another world?" The curator put the diary back in it's glass case and took off his gloves.

"We're going back to that warehouse tonight." Josephine smiled mischievously. "You and I are going ghost hunting." She squealed excitedly as she began to walk away. "Oh, don't you dare back out!" She spun back around. "I know you're just as curious as me to find the truth. It gets curiouser and curiouser, Alice!" She laughed at a volume too loud for the museum, causing everyone to turn to face them. The curator was left blushing but he really was intrigued. He waited that night nervously by the warehouse for her.


	6. Someone Had A Little Crush

"Hey!" Josephine popped up so suddenly the man jumped in surprise. "I never did ask your name, Mr Curator." She smiled.

"Thomas Baker." The man replied.

"Alright, Tommy boy. You got the keys?" Josephine winked

Tom's nervous fingers fumbled around as he unlocked the door. The door open with a loud creaking that echoed ominously through the old warehouse. "Surely, if anyone is in here, they'd have heard that." The curator whispered.

"Rory! It's me, Josephine. Come on out, I brought your biggest fan in to meet you!" Josephine yelled causing The Curator to jump again. "He knows everything about you. He's been following your career for ages."

Slowly, Rory walked out of the shadows with his hand on his sword. "What do you want?" He asked.

"I... I..." The curator couldn't speak. "You're real?"

"Real-ish, yeah." Rory replied as he put his sword away. "I assume you're a historian working for the museum."

"Yes, I specialize in our medieval exhibition." The curator replied.

"He's read your girlfriend's diary." Josephine replied.

"Amy?" Rory looked confused.

"Forgive her." The curator stepped forward. "There's a journal in our collection belonging to a nun with no name. She speaks of a Roman centurion guarding a box called the Pandorica."

"Millicent." Rory whispered. "She had a diary?" He smiled.

"She spoke quite highly of you. She said you were her angel." Josephine winked. "Sounds like someone had a little crush."

Rory chuckled. "I don't know, I mean... Well, it's strange because as she grew older she became sort of a maternal figure." He looked behind him at the large crate housing the Pandorica. "Besides, she knew about Amy."

"Your betrothed?" The curator asked. "The woman who will save the world?"

"Is that what Millie wrote?" Rory asked.

"Yes, is it true?" The curator asked.

Rory nodded yes. "I've been waiting since the first century." He looked back at the crate again. "It's almost time now."

"Will the world come to an end?" Thomas asked. "That's what the legends of the Pandorica say."

"It already is coming to an end, in a way. We're in the eye of the storm so we can't really tell. That's what The Doctor says." Rory replied.

"Doctor Who?" Josephine asked. She crossed her arms somewhat impatiently. "Why can't we open the box now if it's already starting to happen."

"If anyone disturbs the Pandorica, she dies along with this whole universe." Rory stepped forward. "It's not time yet."

"Sorry." Josephine replied. They stayed and chatted for over an hour about history and time and space. Rory liked having company again.

"I hate to, but I really must go." Thomas looked at the time.

"You work at the museum, right? You can always come back if you like. It gets a little boring in here sometimes." Rory smiled.

The curator agreed to return and left with Josephine not far behind, or so he thought. She'd waited for Thomas to leave before sneaking back inside. She watched as Rory took off his belt and breastplate. He sighed as he sat down on an office chair and twirled around. He stopped and reclined back, looking up at the ceiling with the saddest eyes Josephine had ever seen. She wanted so much to approach him and help him somehow. She had a weakness for the wounded bird types. "It must get so lonely in here." Josephine slowly stepped out and walked towards him.

"Oh... um yes... it can." Rory stood up somewhat surprised to see her.

"Sit down, relax. It's fine." She smiled. He did as she said. "Did you ever go into battle before? I mean, you're a soldier, right?"

"I want to say yes because I have those memories in my head but I don't think they're real. They were just planted in my head so that I'd feel real, so I would believe I was a Roman centurion." Rory explained. "I'm a nurse actually, the real Rory, not the Roman Rory."

"So, if I'm following correctly, you were brainwashed into believing you were someone else and got put into a robot body designed to look human?" Josephine leaned up against the armrest of the chair Rory sat in. Rory shook his head yes. "So..." She continued. "Do you function like a man or like a machine?"

"A little of both." Rory replied. "I don't have to eat often or sleep very much. And my hands turn into guns, that's a strange one... But besides that, I function like a human."

"Do you feel sensations like a human, like touch?" Josephine grazed his hand.

"I do, I feel things like any human does." Rory moved his hand.

"How long has it been since you felt the touch of another human?" She asked as he stood up.

"Millie hugged me goodbye in the 12th century, if I remember right." Rory looked down at the ground as he spoke. He could feel the way she was looking at him, it made him a bit nervous.

"That's it? A hug nearly 800 years ago!?" Josephine walked up to him until she was face to face with him just inches away. "Have you ever been kissed, Rory?"

"I have.." Rory found himself backed up against a wall. "A couple of times, yeah.."

"Have you ever done anything besides kissing?" Josephine took her hands in his.

"I don't think this is..." Rory was cut off before he could finish as Josephine leaned in and kissed him. Rory almost caved, he felt himself almost melting. He put his hands around her waist but quickly came to his senses. "No, I... I'm engaged."

"Not for another 80 years." Josephine scoffed.

"No, you have to leave." Rory walked away.

"I hope that Amy girl is worth it." She walked out.

"She is..." Rory looked back at the Pandorica. He remembered Amy kissing The Doctor and felt a sharp pang in his chest. "She is..." He whispers again to himself. He wasn't about to let a petty fit of jealousy over something Amy had already apologised for stand in the way of keeping his promise.


	7. I'm A Nurse

It was September 7th, 1940 and the streets of London were ablaze. German bombers struck relentlessly the whole night. Of course, Rory was already on the move. Anticipating the attack, he'd set up an escape plan. He had the Pandorica roped up so he could pull it to safety. Tom, the curator had been warned by Rory about the impending disaster and relocated many artifacts. They also did their best to warn people but there was only so much that could be done. Bombs came for nearly two months, the Germans didn't let up until May of the following year.

The Pandorica was put on display after the war was over and Rory was given a position as a security guard. He put the old Centurion uniform away to don his night guard uniform instead. Some museum employees had to be told the truth of who Rory was and what the Pandorica was, but it was kept a secret from most people. The Curator and The Centurion spent many nights together in the museum. With Tom's love of history and Rory's 2,000 years of experience, they never ran out of things to talk about.

Tom was in his late 70's when he sat next to the ageless Roman watching TV. It was 1969 and a man had just walked on the moon. "You say you're from the year 2010, before you got stuck in the past. This must all look rather silly to you. Walking on the moon must be child's play by your time."

"Actually, humans haven't gotten past the moon. At least not by my time." Rory smiled. "We've sent satellites into space that have traveled beyond our galaxy and all but it takes years just for them to deliver any data back to Earth. If a human wanted to travel that far, it'd be a long one way trip. To travel through space you need to also travel through time. And there's one one man I know who can... but he isn't exactly human."

"You've done it haven't you? With this Doctor fellow?" Tom asked.

"Yeah, I did." Rory smiled. "It really is amazing and I'm glad I got to see it but I'm ready to go home. I'm honestly an incredibly boring guy who just wants to have a normal life."

"You want to get married to your Pandorica girl, have a few kids, that white picket fence." The curator noticed the sadness in his friend's eyes. "You'll get it, Rory. I know you will. If anyone deserves it, it's you. You've waited long enough."

"I'll be born in 20 years. We're getting close, mid 90's I think. That's when The Doctor will get here." Rory spoke half to himself.

The curator had a hard time getting up from his chair to grab another cola from the fridge. Rory stood up and took his arm to steady him. "I'm an old man now, Rory."

"What, 79?" Rory chuckled. "That's nothing. I saw the fall of Rome at 79."

"Well, being young forever is quite nice." Tom grabbed two sodas from the fridge. "Here you go, son." He handed Rory a drink.

"2,000 years is too long to live. No one should live that long. I don't know how The Doctor does it." Rory whispered. "Watching people come and go all the time. Never being able to keep anyone." He looked at his old friend. They'd known each other for 40 years now, Rory knew he'd lose him soon. He'd lost so many friends, he wasn't sure if he could make another.

The curator was no fool, he could see the tears Rory tried to hide. "You're worried because you know I haven't got a lot of time left but don't you worry about it."

"You'd think I'd be used to it by now." Rory let a tear fall. "I'm a nurse. I've seen death before this and I'll probably see it again. But it never stops hurting."

"You may physically be some kind of robot/human hybrid thing... but the fact that 2,000 years hasn't turned your heart cold yet, that speaks volumes about who you are as a person, Rory." The curator put his arm around to Roman's shoulder. "Or the person you will be, since you technically haven't been born yet." The two old men chuckled.

The curator stuck around for another 5 years before he passed away in 1974. Rory worked the night shift as guard for the museum most times since he didn't need much sleep in comparison to the average human. Every now and again he found himself helping a lost child in Ancient Egypt find their way back to mum and dad in the Bronze Age. But he spent most of his time to himself, just watching the Pandorica.

It was late June of 1989 when he got a rare call from his walky talky. "You've got medical training, right?" The voice from the office asked. "We got a woman over here who might need some help."

Rory rushed over to see a woman holding her very pregnant tummy and wincing. "Hi, I'm Rory, I'm a nurse." He took her hand and sat beside her on the bench. "How much time between contractions?" He asked.

"It varies." The woman replied. "The first was about ten minutes, then 2 minutes, then 6... ugh.." Another contraction stopped her talking for a moment. "Oh, it's gone again." She sighed.

"The irregularity of it might be an indication false labor." Rory explained. "Just a test run, you know? Warming up for the real deal." He smiled. Rory suddenly got a strange feeling looking at her, like deja vu. "Sorry, you seem so familiar to me. What was your name?"

"Elizabeth Williams, but call me Ellie." She shook his hand. "You've been incredibly helpful, Rory.. was it?"

"Yeah, Rory.. Um and I wouldn't worry. He's not due for another 2 weeks." Rory replied. He hadn't seen his mother in so long that he'd nearly forgotten what she looked like.


	8. Mrs Williams

Ellie smiled excitedly. "I've been debating on the name. I was thinking maybe Thomas. Thomas Arthur Williams..."

"Really?" Rory looked surprised. "Well, you've got two more weeks to work out the details, right?" Rory helped his mother back up.

"Oh, he's kicking. Feel it." She took Rory's hand and placed it on her tummy. "Weird, huh?" She chuckled.

"I cannot begin to explain just how weird." Rory laughed as he felt himself kicking.

"You have kids, Rory?" She asked.

"No, but I would like to." Rory replied. "I'm engaged, wedding's taking a bit longer than expected but it'll be worth the wait, I think.."

"Congratulations!" Ellie beamed. She paused for a moment and looked at Rory like she was trying to figure something out. "I don't know why, but I feel like I can confide in you" She started. "I'm excited to be a mom but I get so nervous sometimes. What if he doesn't like me? Or worse, what if I'm not a very good mother?"

"Don't you dare think that, ever." Rory took his mother's hand. "You will be an excellent mother and your son will love you very very much. Always remember that."

Mrs. Williams suddenly felt tears welling up behind her eyes. "Sorry, I... I shouldn't have even said something so personal but I felt... Oh, and now I'm crying." She chuckled as she wiped the tears away. "Damn hormones."

The two looked up at the sound of a familiar voice. The young father to be, Brian Williams came running to his wife. "I was so worried, I thought you got lost or you were hurt somewhere or..."

"I'm fine." Ellie rolled her eyes. "Just needed to sit down for a while." They began to walk away but Ellie turned back around to wave goodbye. "It's been lovely meeting you, Rory."

"You too." Rory waved back slowly, knowing he'd never see her again. She'd get the diagnosis of her life in another 12 years. She wouldn't make it past Rory's 13th birthday. Her battle was half the reason Rory went into nursing. But at least now he'd gotten his chance to help her, and a change to say goodbye.

Things were relatively uneventful until 1996. A familiar little girl was running through the halls of the museum in colorful plastic boots. Rory wondered if the younger him had met her yet, since they were living in a different timeline than before, perhaps he'd been erased from this version of the universe. Yet he remembered the day they met clear as day. She was a strange little girl, always picking fights with teachers and biting her physiatrists. Most of the other kids feared her. She'd sit alone in the playground with a large box of colored pencils as she drew the ridiculous scenes she imagined of herself going on adventures with her raggedy man. She was tough and fearless and wild and he was drawn to her instantly. He didn't know it was love at first, he was only 7. But it became painfully obvious as time went on.

Little Amy had hidden herself away from her aunt, Sharon. The poor woman came running into the security office in search of her. "The child is a menace. She could be wreaking havoc anywhere." Sharon sighed in frustration.

"I'll look around. We're about to close the museum so as guests leave perhaps she'll turn up. But there's also the possibility that she's left the building altogether." Rory replied, already knowing exactly where little Amy was hiding. "Go to the police and file a report. I'll contact them if anything turns up."

"Thank you." Sharon spoke as she ran out the door. "And if you find her, be careful. She bites."

Rory ran to the area where he'd seen her last. "Hey" He whispered as he looked through the fake shrubbery to where Amelia was attempting to hide next to some stuffed penguins. "It's ok, everyone's gone." He smiled.

Amy stayed hiding but spoke. "I have to stay here until it's time."

"Time for what?" Rory asked as he knelt down beside her, the plastic bush between them.

"I don't know yet but it's very important business and it has to do with the stars." Amelia replied.

"You know about the stars?" Rory asked. He'd noticed they had somehow disappeared from the night sky sometime back, as if they never existed. The universe was collapsing around them but little Amy knew the truth somehow, she always did. "I know about the stars too."

"You're the only grown up I've met who knows about stars. No one else believes me." Amelia reached into her coat and took out a folded piece of paper. It was one of her drawings of the stars. "This is what they look like." She handed it to Rory. "You can keep that one. I have loads of other pictures."

"Thanks." Rory folded up the drawing and put it in his pocket. "I'll leave you to your very important business now. Just make sure to stay far away from that big box over there. Do not, under any circumstances, touch that box. Understood?" Rory chuckled as he saw the shrub wiggle as Amy shook her head yes. "Right, well I'll see you soon I hope." Rory walked away into the next room and waited for little Amelia to disobey his orders just as he expected her to do.

He soon heard voices, it was Amy's voice, his Amy. She'd been revived. Then he heard the familiar sound of the video next to The Pandorica. The story of him, The Last Centurion. It was strange to see his 2,000 years condensed into a fun fact soundbite at a museum. He wondered if Amy remembered it was him. She said before she nearly died that she remembered. But who's to say she hadn't lost her memory again after 2,000 years in a box? Then came an unfamiliar voice, an electronic scratchy voice followed by the voice of a man. It was The Doctor.


	9. The Wedding

"What's going on?" Rory yelled from the other room, unable to stay away any longer. He could sense they were in trouble. He came out and shot the Dalek that has suddenly come to life, demobilizing him. Then he saw her running towards him, for the first time in centuries.

Amy paused at the sight of him. He called to her and she replied, "Rory." To his relief, she remembered him. Then he worried she'd remembered what he was, a robot copy of a man she loved. That nearly killed her, no less. But she had to know his thoughts were human, his thoughts were always on her. He was Rory trapped in a shell of himself. What if she was afraid of him now?

He was wrong in assuming she feared him. She ran to him quickly and jumped into a hug. He ran his fingers through her hair and buried his face in her neck, breathing her in. The familiar scent of her that he'd waited so long for. "I'm sorry. I couldn't help it. It just happened." Rory attempted to explain.

"Oh, shut up." Amy pounced into a passionate lip lock like nothing he'd felt in ages. It seemed to last forever as everything around him melted away. They were stopped by the sound of the Dalek rebooting. They made a run for it. The Doctor started setting the plan into motion by sending his information back to Rory in the past. It was so strange to see something that happened 2,000 years ago happening from another vantage point in the present.

They still needed to figure out how to keep the universe from collapsing. Little Amelia had suddenly disappeared, eaten up by the dissolving universe. "Then how am I still here?" Adult Amy asked.

"We're all an anomaly." The Doctor explained. "We're just hanging on at the eye of the storm and if you don't do something fast, reality will never have happened."

Everything became a blur or daleks running down marble corridors and bright flashes of light bursting out from the Pandorica. It was taking it all in and giving it back out into the universe. The Pandorica was rebooting everything to the way it was. Then Rory found himself in complete darkness. He was nowhere, he was dead again.

Rory jumped out of bed and slapped the alarm going off on the dresser beside him. He ran down the stairs in a half asleep daze and made a beeline towards the kitchen. The coffee was already brewed.

"Thanks, Dad." Rory yelled.

"Glad you finally decided to wake up." Brian yelled back from the livingroom. He walked into the kitchen with his already half empty mug of coffee. "I was worried you'd be late to your own wedding." He chuckled and took a seat at the kitchen table.

Rory smiled sleepily. "I had the weirdest dream about that." He sat down across from his father. "We were surrounded by dinosaur bones and ancient artifacts, like time was piling up around us and imploding. Amy came running down the aisle to me in tears like we hadn't seen each other in thousands of years."

"Thousands of years late to your own wedding, huh?" Brian laughed. "How was the stag party? Or do I not want to know?"

"I can't remember a lot of it actually." Rory was a little surprised by the gaping holes in his memory.

"It was that good, huh?" Brian stood up to get some bread out of the cupboard. "Go make yourself presentable. I'll have eggs and toast ready in a minute."

Rory stood up and took his last swig of coffee. Brian rolled his eyes as he watched Rory quickly rinse out his mug and run back upstairs.

"Thanks, dad!" Rory yelled from upstairs followed by a door slamming shut. His suit was pressed and ready to go. He quickly got dressed and brushed his teeth. With his toothbrush still in his mouth, he answered his mobile. "Hello!" He yelled excitedly. It was his bride-to-be on the other line.

"Do you feel like you've forgotten something really important?" Amy whispered on the other line. "Like there's this great big thing in your head and you feel like you should remember it but you can't."

Rory wasn't sure how to respond. He tried to think back to last night's stag but no memories of it came to mind, only vague recollections of having been there. He wondered if this was some sort of trap, if he'd some something stupid that he didn't remember and Amy was attempting to get some sort of confession out of him. "Uh, yup?" Was all he could manage to say. Luckily, his useless answers to her cryptic questions didn't seem to bother her much. It was hard to tell with Amy when it was going to be a good day or a bad day. She was always a bit of an enigma to him. But he loved her for it.

He phoned his friends to ask if they remembered anything about the night before. All seemed to say the same thing, it was a typical stag party and everything went as it should. With the exception of acting a bit silly, Rory hadn't done anything out of the ordinary. As far as they knew anyway.

The wedding went off without a hitch until it came time for toasts. Amelia suddenly fell into one of her strange moods. Rory feared the worst, that she'd suddenly changed her mind about him. He hated not knowing what to do for her. She rose suddenly as she became to tell the guests her childhood stories of her imaginary friend.

Crazy as it all sounded, it started to make sense. A gust of wind blew in and the old but new blue box reappeared in front of them. Like a bolt of lightning to the brain, 2,000 years worth of memories struck Rory in the head. "I was plastic, he was the stripper at my stag." He whispered. He wasn't sure how to deal with his new memories. There was three versions of his life now. One where Amy was an orphan, one where he grew up always knowing Amy's family, and another where he was a soldier in ancient Rome who traveled through all of time waiting for Amy.

He found a way to tuck those extra memories away. If he thought about it too much he'd surely go mad. Now with The Doctor crashing their reception, he had other things to worry about. Like making sure his wife kissed the right time traveller this time.


End file.
